


See The Dawn Again

by NW4Emperor



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-01-30 00:48:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12642735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NW4Emperor/pseuds/NW4Emperor
Summary: The Story of the Greyfairs, new characters in the Game of Thrones, struggling to obtain justice for the destruction of their home, and fighting to stay alive in the war-ravaged continent of Westeros.





	1. Chapter 1

See the Dawn Again

Prologue  
From the high mountains came a great gust of wind, sweeping down into the valley below. A small gust broke off from the larger host and journeyed down, down, down, until it reached a poor, solitary, old house by the riverside. It promptly blew through the house, pushing with all its might against the wooden doorway. Finally, after much effort, the door ceded to the little wind and flew open. The wind continued its journey, rattling the pots of rice and beans, and blowing over the little nose of a girl, not older than two and ten, waking her with a profound bravado. The wind continued blowing, to a bunk of two boys, both twins, blowing the covers off them and creating a fury among them. Now, happy with the progress of the day, the wind promptly slowed down and went back the way it came, whistling happily. 

The family it awoke in its wake started the tasks of the day. The mother, nearly five and forty, who was sick with some pox or unknown disease, nevertheless gave directions to the two older boys.

“Eustace, make your mother a cup of herbal tea, from the ones you got while you were in the forest yesterday.” Eustace grinned slightly, knowing his intentions in the forest yesterday had nothing to do with an herb, but with the pretty girl from the next village. He ran out the door as quick as possible to fulfill his mother's request, as the old woman groaned about his nocturnal adventures. 

“Aren, go wake your younger brother if he isn't already up. The fool boy most likely played with that new wooden sword most of the night.” Aren, ever the dutiful son, followed her instructions.

“Nymeria, prepare breakfast for the boys. The gods know they couldn't do much without your help.” She smiled at her only daughter as she got out of bed. 

“Mother, why does Arien get a wooden sword. He can't use it very well at all.” Nymeria asked her mother. “You aren't getting a wooden sword, little one. Arien needs it to practice. He will make a great knight, perhaps even serve in the Kingsguard one day, if the gods be good.” her mother answered, hoping beyond hope that her word prove prophetic. 

“He should have become a squire by now then, right mother? In the Dance of the Dragons there were many squires younger than he is.” 

Her mother sighed heavily. She had never learned to read well, yet her husband was quite a brilliant man, knowledgeable in both reading and writing, and could plow a field better than the best. But alas, he was gone, lost to them only a decade ago. That is what she had come to accept, though a place was reserved in her heart that hoped he was still alive, somewhere.

Both Nymeria and Edmund were summer children, and her eldest sons, the twin brothers Eustace and Aren acted like a child of summer. They will grow. And understand. She calmed herself with such thoughts.   
“Nymeria, the gods will guide all of us, if only we pray to them. Now, continue with that breakfast. Eustace should be back soon with my herbs.” The mother sat back, watching as her favorite daughter did as she was asked.


	2. Chapter One

Eustace  
Eustace ran down the cobbled pathway from the forest, down to his family's house. He was particularly happy this morning, for yesterday was his first time. And it was quite incredible. He had gotten back near midnight, he figured, and thought for sure his mother was unaware of his adventure. Yet, she of course knew what he had done, and spoke with him well into the night. The sun was almost up by the time they had finished talking of orphans, bastards, and all around broken things. Now, however, he was as free as he could be, and he planned to make a trip to see this girl today, as soon as he was done with his chores and the family was taken care of. 

Opening the door, Eustace noticed immediately the aroma of fresh bread and fried bacon. Their house was not great, he knew, but they had a simple life, living in a large cottage compared to the other houses in the village. They were once great lords, with a castle that reached the sky, or so he was told, but the War of the Usurper, as his father called it, changed that. After King Robert won, their castle was torn down and they were forced to live in a country house, a great fall of a great house. 

“Is breakfast ready, Nym?” he asked his younger sister. She was a beautiful girl, the fairest in the land, he thought. But she had a fire in her, an iron resolve. “Go call everyone, and help mother to the table. We will start soon.” Nymeria replied.

Eustace walked through the doorway and fulfilled Nymeria's requests. The family was soon gathered around the large table to eat their breakfast. 

“I will be going into the village today, so I'll need the sword, mother.” Eustace said to his mother, after eating a fluffed biscuit with melting butter. “Why do you need the sword, son? It is the identity of our house, not a plaything for you to show off to the girls.” his mother chided him.

“I know that mother, but I need it to protect myself when going through the village. Their is a war going on, and it will soon reach here. We need to be cautious.” 

They argued about the sword for nearly five more minutes, with Nymeria chiming in whenever she wished, gaining the ire of both her mother and brother. Soon, however, they agreed to let Eustace take the sword into the village. 

Eustace sighed after the fiery debate with his sickly mother, and regretted worrying her over it. After all, he was the eldest, by a few minutes he was told, and thus the head of the family. The Valyrian sword was his by rights, and he had practiced with it every day, as his father taught him. “You will be a great knight some day.” he had said, and Eustace remembered those words every day, knowing they will come true. One day. He thought, One day. 

After they had finished breakfast, Eustace helped his mother to the bed and walked out the door with the sword securely on his back. It was a bastard sword, and was quite heavy for him, although he had grown used to the weight. He grabbed the family horse and started out to visit the pretty girl from the next village. Hopefully, she would not be angry at his abrupt exit last night. 

As he pushed his horse into a trot, he felt the summer breeze sweep through the valley and enjoyed the smell of flowers on the roadside. The day was beautiful, and his life was as well.


	3. 2

 

**Eustace**

Eustace ran out of the house with his shirt off and his trousers undone. He had been a bit too careless seeing his lady love, as he called her, and her father, the village baker, was not pleased. As he ran away from the incriminating scene, he glimpsed smoke in the distance. Outrunning the fat baker by a mile, Eustace pulled his trousers up, securing them as quickly as possible and pulled the shirt over his torso. Jumping on his black horse, the destrier that was only a few years ago a colt, it's parents taken by the Usurper's army, Eustace rode away from the embarrassing scene.

 

The day had reached its zenith many hours ago, and the winds had slowed. Eustace pushed his horse to trot and slowly made his way to the family home. As he neared the home, a great wave of uneasiness came over the young man, as large balls of smoke billowed to the sky in the distance. Sensing trouble, Eustace spurred his horse to a canter, closing the distance between him and the house with all the speed he dared to muster. As he neared the house, he noticed a horrible smell that resembled a rotting pig, or at least what he thought it might be. Coughing, he circled around so as to use the forest as a cover, in case, in case...

 

Finally situating himself in the foliage, he turned to see the house, and the world melted before his eyes. For there was his childhood home, burning like a dark candle in the night. He soon heard a piercing scream, as two soldiers dragged his mother out of the house. Nymeria was tied to a tree a bit away, fuming. Soon the soldiers grew tired of this woman, and one pulled his sword. Eustace, seeing what would happen, made an effort to stand and charge at these evil men, but his shaky legs would not get up. Breathing hard, he knew in his heart he would not reach her in time, and in some part of his mind, he thought it best to stay hidden.

 

The men took his mother and cut her throat to the bone, throwing her body into the river. They turned to Nymeria, as he did and untied her. She immediately struggled, and Eustace turned so as not to see her die. After she heard a yelp and a body fallen to the ground, he turned back to see the soldiers.

 

Feeling sick to his stomach, he struggled to keep from vomiting. He had felt so helpless, and the pain he felt in his heart would never go away, he thought. As the soldiers got on their black horses, Eustace stepped out of the foliage. He circled back to get his horse and rounded on the house as the soldiers rode north. _They rode north._ He thought.

 

He reached the house and found Nymeria, bloodied and broken, sprawled on the ground. The life drained out of her, it seemed. He felt her face, trying to see if she was indeed still alive. _No,_ he thought. _The gods are not so just._ Instead of burying his beautiful sister, he carried her body to the river and built a small raft that he filled with brush and oil. Placing his sister's body on the raft, he lit the raft with a small flame and pushed it to follow the current. _I will see you and mother in the heavens, sweet one..._ He thought as the boat floated away.

 

Eustace went back to the burning house and sat down to make a fireplace. He would camp here tonight, then leave in the morning for...somewhere. Somewhere far away from this place, somewhere far away.  

 

As he was scavenging to find brush and scrap for his fire, he found a flag left by the raiders. Holding it in his hands, he grew angry and resolved to get revenge for his family, no matter the cost. Grabbing the flag, he threw it in the fire. The dire wolf burned in the setting sun, as the boy prayed to the gods to give him strength.

 

*--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*

 

He splashed water onto his face and body as he washed in the river. Eustace had almost reached King's Landing to start a new life, but thought for some reason that a bath in the river would do him good. Stripping off his clothes, he splashed into the clean, flowing water and spent nearly an hour cleaning the grime and dirt off his hair and body. He had spent the last two weeks riding through a war-torn country with nothing to call his own but the clothes on his back, his precious horse, and the invaluable Valyrian sword.

 

Bloodsong, his father said it was called, and he carried Bloodsong with pride. The sword was beautiful, with a gilded red jewel in it's center and a crimson tint in the blade. It was one of a kind, and Eustace compared it to the famous steel of House Dayne, Dawn. It was unique like Dawn, but its size resembled the Targaryen sword, Dark Sister. Balanced as a Valyrian sword should be, it was one of his last connections with his family, and he would never part with it.

 

The washing done, Eustace donned his sword and clothing, and, astride his destrier, rode to the city of King's Landing in the distance. He reached the city by dusk, and strode to the gates.

 

“Halt, state your name!” the guard shouted at Eustace with a menacing tone.

 

“I am Eustace Greyfair, a member of a noble family. I have come to King's Landing to join the Lannister forces. Before his wash in the river, he would have croaked out this response, but the water did him well.

 

The soldier, a pudgy, fat man with the striking colors of the City Watch, looked at Eustace with a suspicious glare. Eustace was taken aback by the smell of the man's breath and his off-putting face. The guard motioned for the gates to be opened, and Eustace urged his horse forward, glad to be away from such an odd man.

 

He rode through the gate to see a sprawling city that smelled like the seven hells. The scents overwhelmed Eustace, and he struggled to breathe the disgusting odor of the city. The scent of rotting fish made its way to the gates from afar, as the docks were nearly a mile down. Eustace, sensing prying eyes, rode his horse forward and tried to make sense of such a large city.

 

He had never experienced any major city, and was quite enthralled by the people and the shops. He made his way through the city, and soon found himself in a less reputable part of town.

 

Eustace kept moving forward, but caught sight of orphans on the street, whores flaunting their used wares, and fishmongers doing much the same. Feeling safe atop his great horse, he rode quickly through the street and made his way to the Red Keep. _The Lannisters would make use of me, I'm sure._

 

Finally reaching the area of the Red Keep, he was stopped by a Lannister soldier. “I am Eustace Greyfair, and I wish to enlist as an officer,” said he, and waited for a response.

 

“Well, you seem like a little lord atop that great horse. What's that on your back? Go on, give it here!” The Lannister prodded as Eustace drew his sword.

 

“Valyrian sword, named Bloodsong,” he replied, proving his legitimacy. “It is my family's ancestral sword and belongs to me now. My family was killed by Stark raiders, and I fled here," he said, open as ever.

 

The Lannister eyed him like the one at the gate, and finally said, “There's a conscription hut over yonder, on the left side of the Keep. Follow the road there, then turn left and you'll be right on it. And stay out of trouble, boy.”

 

“Thank you, ser!” he said, bowing his head and riding off as the sun set on the crimson bricks of the Keep.  

 

 


	4. Chapter Four

It was all he could do. Run. The memory was much too terrible and gruesome to think of. But where would he run to? Being forced north, he knew he would reach the Stark lines soon enough. That eventuality was something he would not want to happen. But the wandering in this Trident forest was taking its toll, as he once again slipped on the undergrowth.

Falling constantly was a result of his clumsiness. The forest was unforgiving in that regard, with branches and logs littering the ground of the woods. Picking himself up, the boy marched north. 

It wasn't so bad in the forest, all things considered. He thought. The trees made little sound, and the flowers that have recently blossomed smelled wonderful.

This tentative peace was at least better than the horror he had run from. But anything would have been a better sight than the one he had escaped.

He looked up to catch a glimpse of the sun, to see the time of day, and if he should make camp yet again. He had a pack of clothing rolled into a bundle on his back, with a knife his father had given him, a beautiful dagger with castle-forged steel, designed with a red dragon to show the allegiance to the long gone Blackfyres. His family had a penchant for choosing the wrong side of every struggle, and they had paid for it greatly. 

He had been walking with these thoughts on his mind for nearly an hour when he suddenly heard something in the forest ahead. Moving along the forest floor, he saw the shining of a coat of fur, silver in the sun. Instantly dropping to the ground, he had a sinking feeling in his stomach. 

Wolves. He thought. His fears were soon confirmed, as more and more wolves came out of the brush. Black and white and even reddish coats of fur surrounded the boy, and he was terrified. 

His hand shaking, he slowly picked up a large stick that was laying in front of him. The boy stood in a defensive stance, as he and his brother practiced, and prepared for the oncoming attack. 

The wolves were silent, save for a few snarls and yipping. Soon, the wolves in front of the boy made way, and he saw something more dangerous and terrifying than anything he had seen before. 

Climbing onto the little elevation was a massive wolf, bigger than he had ever seen. It was beautiful, but it's massive paws and teeth were more terrifying than anything else. This is my end. He thought and braced for an attack from all sides. 

The boy breathed heavily, shaking so much that his hands could barely hold onto the rock and thick branch he had picked up. "What could he do? There's no way out. Maybe charge at the big one, and throw a rock then run by it and escape. No, that's insane." He thought these things as the wolves started snarling more and louder. Soon, their howling and growling echoed throughout the forest and they started walking forward, following the massive one. 

Knowing nothing could be done, he backed up and started running. The circle of wolves got smaller and smaller, and the boy soon had nowhere to go. All was lost.

As the wolves prepared to rip him to shreds, an arrow flew into the wolf beside the big one. Soon, more arrows came, and horsemen rode down, charging and screaming. The boy backed up, too far. The wolf behind him bit his shoulder and carried him to the ground. Before the wolf could rip his neck out, a rider swung a mace into the body of the wolf, knocking him to the ground. The wolves howling, ran back into the deep forest, licking their wounds. 

The boy saw a rider dismount his horse and walk towards him with a weird grin. The man was big, dressed in black, and as the boy looked down, he saw the silver sigil of House Stark. Too far, he thought. Strayed too far north. The wound on his shoulder burning like all the seven hells, he struggled to his feet, but the loss of blood forced him back down to his knees. Collapsing onto the ground, the man ran over to him. Taking his head, he asked him “Give us a name boy. We'll bring you back and fix you up.”

“Aren of House Greyfair.” he replied, as the world turned black as ink, and the direwolf sigil faded away.


	5. Eustace

Eustace  
Eustace fell to the ground yet again as the other soldiers jeered and laughed. Getting up, he was immediately attacked by a soldier in front of him. Eustace, seeing this attack coming, evaded by stepping to the side. He brought his sword down as the soldier lunged too far and brought him to the ground. 

Now the soldiers were laughing at his sparring partner, as Eustace helped him back to his feet. The officer in charge of training the soldiers screamed an order, and they all stood in formation as he inspected them all. 

“Keep practicing, men. Dismissed!” the officer said, waving them off.

Eustace carried his blunt sword to the rack and went to grab his Valyrian steel sword. No luck, as the sword was nowhere to be found. “This is a mighty beautiful sword, Greyfair. Where'd you steal it?” a brawny, soldier asked him as he swung the sword around like an axe. 

“It is my family's ancestral sword. It is mine by rights. Now give it back!” he grabbed the sword as the man was too slow to move. 

“Damn it, you're a fast one. I'm not giving it to you until you tell me where you stole it!” 

“I didn't steal it, idiot. It's mine by rights!” Eustace angrily said. Finally, he had enough and brought his gauntlet down on the stomach of the big man. The man fell to the ground, coughing. Eustace ripped the sword out of his hands and marched out of the training yard, as the jeering of the soldiers filled the air. 

Keeping his head down, he ran out, intent on going to his little place by the wall. Looking to the cobbled ground, he ran into someone that smelled of lilac. He looked up and saw a beautiful handmaiden. “My lady, I do apologize.” He said, scared of repercussion.

The handmaiden was quite flustered but regained her composure. “It is of little consequence, but next time keep your head up. As handmaiden to Lady Margaery, it is quite improper of me to be attacked by Lannister soldiers.”

“Apologies, my lady. I am Eustace Greyfair, captain of the guard yonder,” he lied, pointing to the place he left just a few seconds ago. 

“I am Lady Mira Forrester. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Now, please let me be on my way,” she said, smiling slightly at Eustace, and he bowed slowly, with a smirk on his face that told a story. 

Eustace was shocked out of his inner brooding by this beautiful maiden. He was a happy soul, at least before the tragic war stuck its long fingers into his family home. I will kill that Young Wolf for what his men did to my mother. I will mount his head on a spike, and everyone will proclaim me a hero. These dark thoughts etched onto his mind, Eustace continued to the inn, determined to gain some needed sleep. 

May the Warrior guide me and the Mother protect me in the weeks to come, he thought, as he made his way across the street as the sun set on the old city of King's Landing.


End file.
